


Keep Coming Back

by Megalovanilize



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Biting, Gun Kink, Lap Sex, M/M, Magic, Orcs, Pirates, Power Bottom Germaine, Sex, Size Difference, Strength Kink, at least for a little while lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-12 12:06:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19131697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Megalovanilize/pseuds/Megalovanilize
Summary: It’s been a long time in the making folks, but here we are! My first fic of legendary orc pirate bard Captain Dubab and Captain Morgan Appendix Germaine. The electricity between these two was too good to resist writing about, I would’ve done it even if I hadn’t lost that bet for it. Here’s an excerpt, and please enjoy!“As much fun as we usually have in your quarters, I was thinking of trying something different this time around.” Germaine leaned back against the desk, letting oak press into his hips as he methodically unbuckled his belt. “You can’t lose a duel, so I’ve always wondered what constituted the limits of one.” The man let his words stew in the air, the sound of ocean waves filling the otherwise silent room. “Care to find out?”





	Keep Coming Back

Germaine knew only one thing would happen when he walked into the captain’s office of the Dubaddies’ ship. There was only one thing that ever happened, but he would always keep coming back. It was so easy to slip back into old habits like this, to look around the familiar office and wait for the one who owned it to make his move. And if Germaine's intuition was right, that would be in 3... 2... 1...

The door to the office slammed shut, followed by the stomping of heavy boots as Dubab entered. Right on time. Germaine felt the orc grab his coat collar and yank him back, slamming him against the door. He ducked his head forward at just the right moment to avoid a concussion on the hard oak, letting his back slam into it instead, leaving a satisfying sting. With minimal resistance, he let Dubab pull his arms above his head, holding them there with one clawed hand as he used the other to trace up Germaine’s neck and lift his chin. His face was stoic as he met the orc’s eyes, but he was sure Dubab could feel his pulse quicken. 

“Hey Appendix,” the orc began, a smug grin spreading across his face. “Been a while.” The only emotion Germaine allowed to shine through was his slight annoyance at the name, huffing and resting his head back against the wood. The orc grinned lecherously down at him, letting his hand shift to grab Germaine’s newly exposed throat, but not squeezing. They’d played this game before, and Germaine simply glanced down at Dubab’s muscular forearm before meeting his eyes again. He raised one eyebrow, a challenge to prove that even with the power, the motive, and the willingness to kill, Dubab wouldn’t. Not here, not now, not like this. The orc let out a grating chuckle as he, true to Morgan’s predictions, released him and took a step back. 

“Confident as ever for someone who’ll be crying on my cock before the night is up.” For all his talk about Germaine being the confident one, Dubab was looking rather sure of himself. His face was split in a savage grin, making no attempts to hide his feelings from the other captain. He had stepped back next to a pillar, narrowly avoiding a collision with it as he moved, and relaxed against it. Morgan’s gaze drifted to his well defined arms as they crossed over his chest, but he corrected himself soon enough. He had a plan this time, and he needed to follow it.

“We’ll see about that,” Germaine replied, subtly rubbing his wrists as he lifted his chin and maintained eye contact with his opposite. A look of genuine confusion crossed Dubab’s face, one hand drifting down to the sword at his hip.

“Why else would you be here then?” The orc thought for a moment, looking so focused on his task that Germaine had to roll his eyes. Honestly, how was someone this stupid as powerful as he was? Dubab’s eyes snapped back to Germaine’s, narrowing to beady slits as he pushed himself upright and adjusted his stance to prepare for battle. “You can’t possibly be thinking about actually dueling me? You know I’ve never lost.”

“Of course not, you’re still going to fuck me,” Germaine began, slowly beginning to unbutton his coat. The movement drew the orc’s eyes, the familiar actions- when did they become familiar?- helping to put him at ease as much as the words did. If it came down to it, they both knew who would win in a fight, but that’s not to say they were ready for the consequences. Dubab’s hand fell away from the pommel of his ridiculous musical sword, instead coming up as he again crossed his arms over his chest. He waited impatiently for Germaine to finish his words, eyes still tracking the deft fingers making their way down white fabric. “But it’ll be in my way, on my terms.” That made the orc laugh, a low rumbling deep in his chest that set Germaine’s blood on fire.

“Oh yea? And are you gonna make me?” Dubab challenged him, squaring his shoulders and smirking to show off his crooked fangs. Germaine couldn’t help but let out his own chuckle at the show, undoing the final button on his coat and revealing the revolver strapped to his side. He pointedly took his eyes off of Dubab to slide it out of its holster, running his hand up the barrel and checking the ammunition- full, just as he’d known it would be. Clicking the cartridge back into place, he looked back up at Dubab through his lashes, letting a small smirk grow across his face. 

“Yes, yes I am.” Germaine reholstered the gun, letting his coat nearly slip off before catching it with one hand, sauntering across the room to fold it over the desk. A glance back at Dubab showed that Germaine’s suspicious were correct; he was rooted to his spot, granting the captain his full attention. This was a show and they both knew it. Neither would kill the other in these circumstances, but god damn was it fun to pretend. “As much fun as we usually have in your quarters, I was thinking of trying something different this time around.” Germaine leaned back against the desk, letting oak press into his hips as he methodically unbuckled his belt. “You can’t lose a duel, so I’ve always wondered what constituted the limits of one.” The man let his words stew in the air, the sound of ocean waves filling the otherwise silent room. “Care to find out?”

The element of danger, no matter how real, had clearly piqued Dubab’s interest, at least judging by the way he immediately began striding across the room towards the other captain. Before he made it two steps, the gun was in Germaine’s hand, held at the ready towards the orc’s exposed chest. Dubab hesitated, fire in his eyes as he kept his gaze trained on the barrel of the pistol. Germaine pointedly gestured towards the chair sitting across from him, leaning back a bit more onto the desk behind him.

“Take a seat, Captain.” Putting special emphasis on the title, Germaine’s purr was somewhere in between a request and a command. Even if it wouldn’t last, even if it was just a game, it was thrilling to have even a modem of control over one of the most powerful pirates on the seas. Keeping up his polite facade was especially entertaining as he used his free hand to snap his belt out of its loops, witnessing a growing tent in Dubab’s trousers following the action. The orc reclined into the chair, draping one hand over the back and spreading his legs, momentarily drawing Germaine’s attention before his eyes snapped up to meet Dubab’s smirking face. Focus, Morgan. That’s why you’re here, but you’ve got a plan.

“Good. Now stay.” The command from Germaine was enough to recapture Dubab’s attention, prompting him to sit forward in his chair. He thought for a moment, the activity looking just as foreign to him as the last experience. How the Dubaddies were still alive without Germaine was truly a mystery. Finally, he looked back up at his rival.

“And if I don’t?” Dubab questioned, a measured look in his eyes. He cracked his knuckles, certainly as an excuse to emphasize the muscles in his biceps, before adjusting his position in the chair. Germaine took just a moment to admire the form of the orc sitting in front of him, flicking his eyes up and down and toned physique of the captain. Had things been just a little different, he might have stayed on the crew just to keep him around. But these moments would have to do. Back to the show.

“Even the likes of you can figure out that one.” Germaine ignored the mock-offended look on Dubab’s face, spinning his gun around his finger before placing the weapon down on the desk. He paused for a moment to see if the orc would stay put, allowing a satisfied smile to cross his face when his orders were followed. The next stage of the plan was a test; another game. This time to see how long Dubab was willing to wait. Germaine had seen firsthand how short Dubab’s patience lasted, which is exactly why this would be so entertaining.

He started at the bottom, lifting each leg separately and methodically undoing the buckles on his tall leather boots. He made sure to take his time, relishing in the way Dubab visibly struggled to keep his cool, fists clenching and unclenching as his eyes grew fiery. He went for his armor next, the leather straps taking a fair bit of time to undo on the best of days, Morgan making sure not to drag it out for so long his opposite lost interest. Reaching for the laces on his breeches earned him a rumbling growl, the sound making Germaine’s blood race as untied the careful knot.

By the time he started on the buttons of his dress shirt, Dubab’s limited restraint had run out. His eyes were blazing as he pushed himself out of the chair and marched over to Germaine, paying no attention whatsoever to the pistol Morgan had reached as soon as he’d seen movement. The orc continued to ignore barked warnings from the other captain, only stopping when he was towering over Germaine. Muscular arms caged him in, forcing him to lean back to gain back even a minuscule amount of breathing room. Everywhere Germaine looked, tanned green skin filled his vision. Dubab always had a way of making him feel small.

The cold metal pressing into Dubab’s chest was apparently of little concern to the orc, even when his torn ears flicked slightly at the sound of the safety being clicked off. He simply stared down a Germaine with a blaze in his eyes, still breathing heavily as he held eye contact, waiting for something. After a few seconds of tense silence, a feral smirk split Dubab’s features.

“Can’t do it, can you?” Dubab guessed, leaning even closer to the man effectively pinned underneath him. 

“Shut up,” Germaine grit out, pushing the barrel further into the orc’s chest. He didn’t move a muscle, and Germaine hadn’t expected him to. The action was for his pride more than anything else, as well as the show they were apparently still putting on. Dubab was doing nothing to get rid of the barrel pointed at his heart, and even had the nerve to laugh at Germaine's words.

“Don’t worry, neither could I.” With that confession, Dubab learned down next to Germaine's ear to let his hot breath fan across his hair. As always, Morgan knew exactly what was going to happen. But this time he had the power to stop it. He fingered the trigger on his gun, considering for a moment spraying the orc’s blood all over the walls of his dirty office. But no, he would wait. He would gain nothing from taking a shot like this. Plus, Dubab was sturdy enough that there was no way in hell a single shot could take him down. 

So Germaine allowed Dubab’s song to flow through his body, the mumbled melody relaxing his muscles and fogging his mind. He had to struggle to stay alert enough to maintain a steady hold on his weapon, but he managed to keep it under control. However, the concentration required to hold onto the pistol was leeching away his ability to influence Dubab’s movements. On the other hand, that didn’t seem like the worst thing in the world when the orc picked him up like he weighed nothing and sauntered back to his chair, still humming in his ear. He settled Germaine on his lap so he straddled the orc, still seemingly unaffected by the captain’s weight. Dubab took one look at the buttons on his dress shirt and gave up immediately, ripping them all open at once. Dammit. This one was expensive too.

The buttons from his shirt scattered on the floor, neither of them particularly caring once Dubab spread Germaine’s legs with his own. The orc huffed disapprovingly at the impediment of Germaine’s drawers, ignoring the laces and simply clawing them open to allow himself access. Germaine inhaled sharply at Dubab’s careless motions, jerking the gun up to press against his opposites neck as he felt the claws tear at his skin. 

“Watch it,” he growled softly, free hand gripping the tattered fabric of Dubab’s vest. The orc chuckled lowly at the demand, but his movements turned softer as he pulled away the torn remains of Germaine’s underclothes. He retrieved a small vial of oil from the lining of his vest, more prepared for their encounter than the captain had expected. The blatant issue with this scenario only occured to Morgan as he felt those same clawed fingers trail lightly down his lower back.

“Shit, wait-” Germaine started, a light blush dusting his cheeks despite himself. Dubab pulled back, a confused expression on his face as his hands settled comfortably on Germaine’s hips. The captain looked away, adjusting himself slightly on Dubab’s lap as he spoke. “Let me do it. You’ll tear me apart this way.” Dubab’s emotions spread across his face one by one, first increased puzzlement, then understanding, and finally a sinister smile. Fuck.

“What’s the matter, Morgan? I thought you wanted to ‘try something different this time around?’ Something a little more exciting?” As Dubab spoke, he pulled Germaine forward until they were chest to chest, one hand traveling up to rest on the small of his back. Germaine was frozen in place, disbelief flashing across his features. 

“You can’t possibly…?” The spike of adrenaline drove away the lingering effects of Dubab’s magic, leaving Germaine to process the suggestion. It was utter madness. Those claws could shred him. And yet...

“I won’t hurt you, Morgan… well, any more than I have to. We’ve both proven that, haven't we?” Germaine thought carefully for a moment, agreeing with the sentiment but still unsure of whether to trust him. They’d each had more than enough opportunities to do some serious damage to the other, so it wouldn’t make sense for Dubab to wait until now to try something. He wouldn’t have the patience to pull off a heist like this, anyway. So that left only the possibility that he was being genuine in his offer. However, even if that was true, could he manage it? Centuries of practice with the blade had left him with steady hands; maybe not like this, but he wasn’t completely incompetent. It would take particularity and focus, which Dubab didn’t have on the best of days, but what other options did Morgan have at this point? This was the best course of action for them both, and he did come here to take risks. “Come on, just say yes.” 

“... alright, Dubab.” That was all the encouragement he needed, rumbling affectionately and leaning forward to mouth at the skin of Germaine’s neck. His hands left Germaine’s skin, and the bottle of oil was blindly opened, allowing Germaine to hear a generous amount pouring over Dubab’s fingers. The tips of slick claws met his back once again, causing Morgan to shiver as they lightly dragged over his spine until they were low enough to slip inside him.

Germaine braced himself for the feeling of claws slicing into his insides, but true to his word, the only pain he felt was the burn of the stretch as Dubab started to open him up. Germaine was honestly in awe at the gentleness and precision Dubab was exhibiting, letting out a small sound as he brushed past something that had Germaine seeing stars. He felt the orc smile against his skin, cursing his body’s betrayal as Dubab quickly found it again. Letting out a heavy breath through his mouth, Germaine rocked back against Dubab’s hand, tilting his head slightly to give him better access to his neck. 

A second finger had him tensing up again, still on edge, but the spike of pain that came with the motion reminded him to relax. Germaine’s measured breaths were a sharp contrast to his racing heartbeat, especially as sharp teeth dragged harshly across the skin of his neck. Long tusks pressed dangerously close to his throat, and Germaine’s already rapid pulse skyrocketed. He tapped Dubab’s collarbone with his weapon a few times, using both hands to put some distance between them. When the orc finally pulled back, a red tinge on his teeth, Germaine took a moment to glare before composing himself and speaking.

“Stop, unlace your breeches.” Germaine was usually one for eloquence, but circumstances like these were an exception. Luckily, the blunt order was all it took for Dubab to set to work. He slipped his fingers out of Germaine, pulling a slight hiss out of the captain as he leaned back and vigorously began to untie the hastily done knot. Germaine lowered his gun hand to the arm of the chair, taking a moment to lazily stroke his cock with the other as he waited. He again admired the form in front of him, tan green skin glistening with sweat, chest heaving as he worked, black hair escaping the messy braid it was done up into. Germaine wondered for a moment if the demon lord he’d struck a deal with also gave him the ability to look like that. But then Dubab’s dick was free and god damn did that complete the picture.

Germaine had to stand on his toes to position himself over Dubab’s cock, but it was worth it as he began to sink down onto it. His movement produced a husky growl from Dubab, the orc’s thick hands grabbing a hold of his waist. Germaine had forgotten just how well Dubab filled him, and he couldn’t stop the sounds that would occasionally slip past his lips. He continued to gradually ease himself onto it, wanting to take as much time as he could before Dubab’s patience again ran out. Without warning, the orc yanked him down until their hips met, pulling a yelp from Germaine. His back arched forward, chest heaving as he struggled to contain his voice. He knew Dubab wouldn’t make it easy to stay quiet, but it would be a challenge worth taking. 

Dubab started with simple movements, simply moving Germaine’s hips up and down on top of him, but soon his aggression increased into harsher motions. Germaine’s hand scratched down Dubab’s back, soon having to grab another hold of his vest to keep his balance. Dubab slammed Germaine down on top of him, beginning to rock his own hips to increase the momentum and power he was giving.

It was becoming exceedingly difficult to stay quiet, Dubab’s ministrations filling him perfectly. Every thrust hit just the right spot, but the self-satisfied smirk on his face was starting to get annoying. There had to be a way to wipe that grin off his face, but Germaine was a bit too preoccupied with simply hanging on for the ride for his mind to operate at full capacity. If nothing else, he could certainly continue the show.

Germaine pressed the pistol harder against the underside of Dubab’s chin, forcing his head further up but merely widening the grin on the orc’s face. The tightening of clawed hands on his hips was the only warning he received for an especially rough retaliating thrust, pulling him farther down onto the orc’s cock. The air caught in his throat, and only sheer force of will was enough to keep from whimpering at the other’s ministrations. The knuckles on his free hand were white as they gripped Dubab’s torn vest, and Germaine had to focus hard on controlling his breathing. If the other captain would stop looking so damn pleased with himself, it might be easier to keep his cool. Germaine borderline growled as he stared defiantly into the black eyes of his opposite. 

“Easy, Morgan. If I’m gone, who do you have that’ll do this for you? Who CAN do this for you?” Dubab’s infuriatingly smug voice only pissed him off more, as well as the knowledge that he was right. No one else could be with him like this, he wouldn’t ever let them get close enough. Dubab’s insistence on keeping up the facade was annoying as well, but along with these feelings was a current of unbearable want. Germaine was suitably convinced that the orc had cast a spell without him noticing to get him to react the way he was. The captain was normally masterful at dividing his attention, but he was finding it hard to focus on anything except what- or who- was right in front of him. Dubab must have seen his internal struggle on his face, judging by how much darker his grin became.

“You know I’m your only-”

“Shut up.” Germaine interrupted him, trying to clear his head and ignore how easily the orc was moving him. He schooled the expression on his face back into one of cool control, taking a victory in the sudden spark of interest in Dubab’s eyes. He dragged the barrel of the gun down the column of the other’s throat, following it with his eyes and letting it rest against the artery just below the skin. He pulled back the hammer, making sure they could both hear the click before flicking his gaze up to his partner. He was finally losing some composure, lips twitching and pupils blown wide in response to Germaine’s threat. He felt the claws on his hips dig in that much more, and when Dubab readjusted his angle he could no longer stop the small noises from escaping him. All of his energy was going toward keeping his gun hand steady, and he couldn’t help but think about how much easier it would be if he just gave up control. He could stay here just like old times, and he wouldn’t have to make the right choices or fight the good fight. He could just exist.

No. Who was he if not the captain of his crew? They needed him, and he would be back. But that was later. Right now, he could feel Dubab’s thrusts becoming more erratic as both men slowly lost their composure. The orc’s moans were becoming more and more feral the closer he got, morphing into guttural growls that vibrated the metal against his neck. Germaine wasn’t faring any better, if the coiling in his stomach was anything to go by. He tried to move, to fuck himself down on to Dubab’s cock, but the other’s grip was unyielding. He have must noticed though, a possessive snarl bubbling up in his throat as he leaned in and bit hard onto the space between Germaine’s neck and shoulder. 

Morgan shoved the barrel of the gun into the other’s skin as he came, a wordless shout leaving his lips only to be drowned out by the roar of the orc holding him. Dubab yanked him down, burying himself inside Germaine as he scored marks down his thighs. It stung, but he expected that. He’d learned to expect it, why else would he keep coming back? 

As they caught their breath, Dubab leaned back and Germaine lifted himself off his softening dick with a wince. He grabbed a spare cloth and wiped the blood from his neck before rebuttoning his coat and trousers. Unceremoniously, he tossed it to Dubab, who just barely cleaned the come off of his chest. It shined in the low light, and Germaine’s gaze lingered on it for a moment before looking back up to meet the orc’s eyes. The blood still glistening on his teeth showed the same hunger as the look in his eyes, but they both had responsibilities to return to. That look wasn’t a demand, it was a promise of things to come.

“... Good game, Dubab.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for the read! If you enjoyed it, please consider leaving a kudos or a comment, your feedback is what keeps me going :) 
> 
> Additionally, if Daniel ever finds this fic, I will completely understand if he decides to kill me


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